


Sharp Dressed Man

by MercurySkies



Series: Dress You Up In My Love [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fashion & Couture, Fashion house owner Viktor, Fashion student Phichit, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurySkies/pseuds/MercurySkies
Summary: It has been weeks. Viktor is NOT moping. A stressed Viktor runs into Yuuri on a coffee run and fails to ask him out, much to Phichit's dismay. Despite a considerable amount of damage to a designer coat, a tetchy teenager and a complete lack of composure Viktor finds solace in one thing: Yuuri Katsuki wearing his clothes.'“Did you ask him out?” He continues regardless and Viktor’s eyes widen comically.“No? Do you think I should have?” He answers beginning to panic.“Honestly! What is the point of being wingman to the both of you if you’re going to blatantly ignore the opportunities I painstakingly provide.” Phichit rolls his eyes, exasperated.“I didn’t realise. I got distracted.” He mumbles, eyes trained on where his shoes try to rub out a scuff mark on the marble floor.“What, ‘hate to see him go but love to watch him leave’?” Phichit smirks and Viktor’s answering blush tells him that he’s somewhat been caught. “I- no. Okay maybe yes."'





	Sharp Dressed Man

**Author's Note:**

> Another instalment of this AU! I'm really enjoying trawling though fashion magazines for 'research purposes'. This part is inspired by [art](https://t.co/PsWSBpjkcN)  
> by the lovely Ana! They've been tolerating me yelling about some of my head cannons for this series so please do check out their work! The title for this part is from Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top.

It has been weeks. Viktor is _not_ moping. He shoulders the heavy glass door to the store open with a sigh, juggling his bag and keys and various goods from the cafe down the street. The door slams shut behind him and he goes to walk forward before realising he is stuck, coffees wobbling precariously in the tray in his left hand. “Viktor! Viktor! Don’t tug that [coat](https://t.co/PsWSBpjkcN) is Gucci!” Phichit says as he rushes over, pushing open the door so Viktor can fully enter the store and free his coat. Viktor curses the unseasonably cold weather for making him need to wear it in the first place. He looks at Phichit, eyes an icy blue, the bangs of his silver hair falling every which way. “I know.” He says pointedly, and he cringes internally at the look of shock on Phichit’s face. “I mean thank you. Soy mocha, no cream, right?” Phichit nods and plucks his drink order from the tray, trailing after him as Viktor makes a b-line for the counter. He doesn’t usually allow food or drink anywhere outside of the break room but they’re barely open and his people deserve a treat.

 

“Viktor how generous, if you hadn’t been a cantankerous arsehole for the past two weeks, we would almost have been fooled into thinking all this was a gift and not an obvious apology.” Yuri spits, as he reaches greedily for his drink.

“Watch it Yura. Still your boss.” Viktor replies icily around a gulp of his own coffee, too hot and with entirely too many extra shots. Viktor can’t remember just how many he’d ordered, sleep deprived mind doing entirely what it wanted without any real input from Viktor himself. Yuri is barely an employee anymore, with more than enough modelling contracts coming his way for him to be able to ditch Viktor altogether, but even though Yuri seems to despise his existence sometimes, Viktor is still one of, if not _the_ best, names in the industry.

 

“I’m sorry everyone, I know I’ve been a... difficult person to work with. You’ve been working hard and it’s been going unappreciated. It’s been a rough couple of weeks but I’ll try to be better this week okay?” He looks around at each of his staff in turn, making sure they know he means it. They’ve all proven themselves to be loyal and hardworking employees as well as friends. Georgi and Mila have helped him open and establish several stores, flying out to his new locations to help manage and build a new staff at the burgeoning stores. Yuri has been modelling his clothes since Viktor was just an emerging designer and himself a mere little boy. Viktor still doesn’t know which is easier to work with; a 10-year-old Yuri or a teenaged Yuri. Phichit has been a part of his life for only a few weeks but he’s already proven himself to be a diligent and kind friend as well as colleague, his wit is as quick as he is to learn and Viktor knows he’s heading for great things.

 

“Please accept my peace offering of baked goods and warm beverages.” He says with a small smile and they all return it but for Yuri whose mouth is so full of cinnamon bun he looks like one of Phichit’s hamsters. When the apology breakfast has been demolished, they all get to work. “Yuri, Phichit? Let’s get this fitting for the shoot this Friday over with okay?”

 

Viktor drags his feet on the way to the fitting rooms, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door once he makes it into the confines of the brightly lit room. Truth be told he hasn’t been in the fitting rooms since the opening and stepping into one now makes that night seem even more like a dream. He sighs and Yuri sneers at him, arms crossed firmly across his chest. “I can’t believe you’re still moping because of that loser.” He huffs and Viktor has to clench his teeth to keep from snapping. “I’m not moping.” He says, unable to pretend his voice doesn’t sound flat and sullen “and don’t talk about him like that.” He adds at the same time Phichit retorts something similar, quick to defend his friend. It makes Viktor smile, feeling a little lighter. He rolls his shoulders to try and release some tension, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater. He gets to work, fitting Yuri for everything he’ll be wearing for the shoot. It can’t be helped if his pin placement is a little less careful than usual. Phichit is much less capable of hiding his laughter as Yuri hisses as a pin catches his ankle.

 

* * *

 

It’s long after noon by the time Viktor manages to escape the store for lunch shrugging on his coat as Yuri’s swearing follows him out the door. He’s halfway to his favourite cafe when his phone starts blaring out the ringtone Yuri had insisted he set for him. He stops in the middle of the street and fumbles for his phone, ready to give Yuri a piece of his mind when a body collides into him covering him in coffee as his phone clatters to the concrete.

 

He stares at it dumbfounded, feeling his eyes start to sting as his chest heaves. He vaguely hears a strained voice apologising profusely and forces himself to blink. “Viktor? Viktor, are- are you okay?” a soft voice asks him and his stomach churns uncomfortably when he realises it belongs to Yuuri of all people. Viktor blushes caught so unbelievably off guard he struggles to string a sentence together. “Yes? I mean- I’m fine thank you sorry.” Yuuri tilts his head as he looks at him, eyes bright behind the rim of his glasses.

“I’ll cover the cost of dry cleaning your coat. I hope the embroidery won’t be stained, it’s beautiful.” Viktor freezes as Yuuri reaches up to brush his fingertips across the embroidered flowers on the breast of Viktor’s coat. His breath stutters to a stop, his chest feeling warm where he can feel the barely there press of Yuuri’s fingertips through layers of clothing. “It’s fine” he finally manages to breathe out as Yuuri rocks back on his heels. Viktor remains transfixed by the blush that graces his cheeks and he can feel his own face warm at the sight of it, “don’t worry about it.”

 

“It’s my fault really. Can I buy you another coffee?” He asks, heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh, it’s okay. I prefer tea, I was just bringing Phichit lunch.” Yuuri fidgets, hand rubbing the nape of his neck. He looks nervous and Viktor starts to panic, wondering if Yuuri just wants to leave. Viktor has been waiting for Yuuri to come back to the store for weeks, and he’s caught between not wanting to make Yuuri uncomfortable and never wanting him to leave. “Well I should definitely buy you tea then, for being such a dutiful friend.” He says eventually. He winks, but he’s sincere and Yuuri’s blush deepens. “I- yeah okay.” Yuuri smiles, eyes tracing the cracks in the pavement as they make their way back toward the cafe. If Viktor trips on one, Yuuri pretends not to notice.

 

* * *

 

By the time, they arrive back at the store Yuri is thankfully long gone and they are greeted by a stricken looking Phichit. He points an accusing finger at Viktor’s stained coat. “I know Phichit.” Viktor sighs for the second time that day. “What? Do you think I doused myself in coffee just to spite you?” He smiles, handing over his lunch. “Thank your illustrious best friend not me.” He adds when Phichit looks at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Thank you Yuuri!” He gives a flustered looking Yuuri a one-armed hug before tugging him toward the break room. He lets them go, listening with a smile to Yuuri’s protests as he makes his own way toward the counter where Mila stands, eyebrow raised at him.

 

“You need to take that off, you look a mess.” She says disapprovingly. He turns to look at himself in the mirrors behind the counter and... she’s right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, half of it flopping into his eyes. The hideously stained coat is hanging limply from his shoulders, the collar of the jumper underneath pulled askew. Worst of all his face is drawn, skin ghostly pale and eyes showing the beginnings of dark circles. He smiles though and it feels natural, genuine, even if the blue of his eyes seems fever bright. “You’re right I look insane, I’m going to my office, I can’t be out on the shop floor like this, I can’t be out on the shop floor with _Yuuri_ around looking like this.” He gestures wildly to himself and side steps the counter but Mila grabs his wrist, stopping him. “Viktor, slow down.” She says, levelling him with a look that's both equal parts concerned and chastising “The store isn’t busy and I don’t think Yuuri minds all that much.” _I mind_ , Viktor thinks but bites his tongue, _I care about what he thinks of me_.

 

“How did you guys run into each other anyway?” She adds and Viktor sighs wistfully as he slips out of his coat and stashes it, along with the rest of his things, under the counter. He rolls up the sleeves of his sweater before resting his elbows on the shining marble of the counter top. “We ran into each other.” He says dreamily, chin resting on his hands, pushing up his cheeks until his eyes are barely visible happy crescents. “Literally.” Mila laughs at him for all his inelegant bumbling but it makes Viktor feel better about it, makes him feel human for making mistakes. They happily distract each other from the work they should be doing until a customer strides toward the counter and Viktor’s back straightens, smiling warmly as they prattle on about custom suits and prices. “Let’s see if we can book you in for a consultation, shall we?” He says with his jaw clenched as he moves them over to the computer with the last vestiges of grace he has.

 

He’s just wrapping up with possibly the most obnoxious customer he’s ever had the misfortune of having to serve, when he spots Yuuri making his way across the store. “My lovely manager will be able to help you with anything further, thank you!” He blurts out as Yuuri seemingly sprints toward the exit.

 

“Yuuri!” He calls and Yuuri stops, turning to face him, his hands playing with the strap of his bag. “Viktor?" 

“Leaving so soon?” He says with a smile he hopes is charming as his heart stutters in his chest.

“I- Phichit’s lunch hour is up,” he says, eyes fixed on the marble floor “and I’m due to teach a class.” His cheeks are tinged pink and Viktor aches to reach out and brush his fingertips across the reddened skin. “What do you teach?” He asks instead. Yuuri looks up then, surprised to be asked.

“I teach a ballet class at my friend’s studio.” He says, eyes bright and Viktor longs to ask him every question that occurs to him right there. He doesn’t though, he’s not so selfish as to jeopardise Yuuri’s job. “I really should go.” Yuuri adds, hands still fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag. Viktor nods, reluctant. “Wait here for a sec okay?” He says before dashing off across the shop and into the back room. He almost runs straight into Phichit as he heads for the rack he has reserved for his personal projects.

 

“Yuuri is so lucky. I need to seduce a famous fashion designer. Free clothes!” Phichit sighs as he slides a waistcoat onto the rail reserved for garments that need adjustment. Viktor doesn’t spare him a glance as he takes a garment bag from the rail reverently and skips back toward the shop floor. “He didn’t _seduce_ me.” His hand on the door handle as the obvious lie leaves his lips. Phichit evidently sees it for what it is too. “Suuuure,” Phichit says folding his arms over a very expensive looking lavender, silk blouse, “my photographic evidence says otherwise.”

“Wait you have pictures? From the opening? Let me see!” Viktor says excitedly.

“Mmm, maybe. Let’s cut a deal...” Phichit says mischievously and Viktor remembers that he’s keeping Yuuri waiting. He yanks open the door in a hurry. “I didn’t know you could make more than one deal with the devil.” He calls over his shoulder, and Phichit’s cackle can be heard even as the door falls shut behind him.

 

Yuuri is by the counter when Viktor approaches, figuring that he would be in way waiting by the door. “Having fun?” He says smiling and Viktor can feel his face heat. “Your best friend is a menace.” Viktor jokes.

“Mmm but he buys me food and gets me invited to fancy parties.” Yuuri fires back with a wink and Viktor almost chokes on air by how much it catches him off guard. So Yuuri _does_ remember the opening. “About that. A promise is a promise.” He hands over the garment bag and bounces on the balls of his feet as Yuuri takes it carefully from him. “I- Thank you Viktor.” Viktor takes a step back, hands curling into fists at his sides to keep him from running them through his hair nervously. “It’s nothing. Let Phichit know if there’s anything you’re not happy with and we’ll see to it.” Yuuri laughs at that and Viktor could listen to that sound forever. “I’m not one of your clients.” He replies ruefully.

“Well, you know best friend privileges.” Viktor smiles and Yuuri’s shoulders fall slightly, eyes fixed on the garment bag clutched in his hands.

“Well I- I better get going.” He says more to the bag than Viktor.

“Take care Yuuri, come back soon!”

“Bye Viktor.” He says before making his way briskly out of the store. Viktor watches him go.

 

* * *

 

Viktor meets Phichit half hidden behind a rail of clothes in the back room. Viktor all but floats past him, rummaging through the clothes opposite him almost in a daze. “So…” he says, and Viktor’s hand clutches at his chest, startled.

“Christ, Phichit are you trying to kill me?” He says as he watches Phichit extricate himself from swathes of fabric. “Did you ask him out?” He continues regardless and Viktor’s eyes widen comically. “No? Do you think I should have?” He answers beginning to panic.

“Honestly! What is the point of being wingman to the both of you if you’re going to blatantly ignore the opportunity I painstakingly provided.” Phichit rolls his eyes, exasperated.

“I didn’t realise. I got distracted.” He mumbles, eyes trained on where his shoes try to rub out a scuff mark on the marble floor.

“What, ‘hate to see him go but love to watch him leave’?” Phichit smirks and Viktor’s answering blush tells him that he’s somewhat been caught. “I- no. Okay maybe yes but he had to get going anyway. I didn’t want him to be late for work.”

“As considerate as that is, you played yourself there Viktor.” Phichit pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

 

He stands staring at his shoes, feeling sorry for himself until Phichit shoves his phone under his nose. On it is a recent Instagram post, from Phichit’s profile by the looks of it, captioned, ‘sharply dressed man’ with various star emojis. It takes him a while to realise the man leaning elegantly against a wall in the warm half-light of a nearby streetlamp in the post is Yuuri. His arms are crossed and his head is tilted back against the wall, dark eyes full of warmth and laughter as he looks across to the person, presumably Phichit, taking the picture. It’s nonchalant and sexy and Viktor’s breath stutters as he realises it must have been from after the store’s opening. Yuuri is still wearing the jacket Mila had given him and the dark red of the embellishments shines in the gold light. It cinches in at the waist, emphasises the breadth of his chest and although Viktor’s trained eye can see it doesn’t quite fit him in the sleeves, it’s perfect. Everything about him in that image is perfect. He imagines his next advertising campaign could feature this image of Yuuri and that alone and it would be wildly successful.

 

“Oh-” Is all he manages to breathe out and Phichit looks on in sympathy.

“There’s plenty more where that came from boss.” Phichit adds and Viktor is just about to ask if that deal he was talking about is still on the table when he’s interrupted by the familiar blare of the ringtone assigned to Yuri’s contact.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all the love for this series so far and if you have any suggestions for outfits or scenes you'd like to see let me know in a comment or find me on tumblr. 
> 
> Check out the art of [a fashionable Vitya](https://t.co/PsWSBpjkcN)  
> that inspired Viktor's coat in this chapter! And find the artist, Ana on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/toratoramin)  
> 


End file.
